


Dear Santa

by Dragonlingdar



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27964028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonlingdar/pseuds/Dragonlingdar
Summary: Lorenz had done far more undignified things in the pursuit of good political optics than agree to serve as a Santa at a holiday Charity Banquet that Claude helped organize.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Dear Santa

**Author's Note:**

> This is just...a stupid Holiday Special. It is garbage, tooth-rotting fluff, but I am content with it, so I am inflicting it on the wider world. Enjoy?

“I still can’t entirely believe you talked me into this,” Lorenz said as he and Claude strode briskly through the bustling banquet hall towards an unoccupied side supply room, holiday decorations festooning almost every surface, music Lorenz was already sick of floating above their heads. A banner proclaiming the event--a charity banquet with Santa--was hung on the far wall from the entrance, and employees were bustling around, putting finishing touches on the tables where the attendees would be sitting. “You’re too skilled with that mouth of yours.”

“In more than one way,” Claude said with a wink. He was dressed in a ridiculous green-and-red striped elf costume, complete with a hat that had fake pointed ears and a bell on the tip. People tried to stop Claude to ask him questions--he  _ was _ one of the most popular and visible up-and-coming politicians in the Alliance--or take pictures with or of him, but they had places to be, things to do, he wasn’t taking interviews right now, sorry, better luck later. There were finishing touches to put on the event to make it  _ magical _ for the attendees. After all, children recovering from severe illnesses deserved some joy in their young lives. 

The questions directed at Lorenz were more pointed, prying, and hostile, but the Gloucester political dynasty was a rather fraught one, particularly considering how his father had weaseled out of every scandal that was thrown his way, so while everyone  _ knew _ he was a crook, they could never pin it on him. Thus, Lorenz had to deal with leftover hostility for his father, in  _ spite _ of being part of a political coalition with  _ Claude _ , who was perhaps the antithesis of his (Lorenz’s) father. Lorenz answered the questions sent his way with an icy silence that dissuaded even the most dogged. 

Eventually, they made it through the banquet hall and into the supply room and let out simultaneous sighs, which provoked an undignified giggling fit.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that,” Claude said and made a beeline for a nondescript bag. He rifled around in it and pulled out a Santa Claus costume. “Tah-dah!”

Lorenz examined it skeptically as Claude removed all the pieces, lying them out on a folding steel chair. 

“Where did you get those boots? They’re basically perfect Santa boots,” Claude said, looking at Lorenz’s feet. 

“You’ve seen my shoe closet, and you’re surprised?”

“...point.”

Lorenz reluctantly performed a sniff test, and relaxed slightly when the costume at least  _ smelled _ clean. “I still don’t understand why you called  _ me _ .”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you weren’t our first contact,” Claude said and took off the hat to scratch his head. “When our original Santa called in to cancel because he was sick--which was appreciated, because no need to risk making potentially still immuno-compromised children sick by attending an event that was meant to be fun--he  _ did _ give us some contact information of other Santas he knew. However, given that, like, every mall and event needs a Santa, we ran out of credible and trustworthy ones  _ very _ quickly.”

“But...why  _ me _ ? How did you convince the other organizers that  _ I _ was trustworthy?”

“Kinda didn’t tell them I was contacting  _ you _ ,” Claude said. “I volunteered my boyfriend. It took just a little too long for them to remember who my boyfriend is, and by then you had already agreed. Nothing makes people forgetful like panic.”

A  _ phone call _ from Claude was a rare and concerning thing, since his preferred communication style was text messages and memes, so Lorenz had compulsively answered. Hearing Claude calmly-panicking had  _ also _ inclined Lorenz to give his request greater consideration, but framing the situation as ‘The holidays are the best time for generating positive optics to combat your family’s notoriety’ had almost entirely convinced Lorenz; the promise of someone else taking out the trash and doing the dishes for a full  _ week _ had been what had sold Lorenz on helping. 

Lorenz snorted and reached over to Claude, gently running his fingers along Claude’s jaw. “And people call  _ me _ devious.”

“They just forget that I know how to play the game,” Claude said and caught Lorenz’s hand in his own, pressing a kiss to it before letting him go. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you all ready,  _ Santa _ .”

_ I hope it’s not infested with lice or something, _ Lorenz thought. He sighed and started to strip out of the many layers required to starve off the cold wind that came off Derdiru’s harbor in the winter. “Help me put this...nonsense...on.”

“You’re the best,” Claude said and folded the clothes into a neat pile as Lorenz handed them over.

“I know,” Lorenz drawled, his voice muffled as he took off his turtleneck.

Claude snickered. “The kids and their families will really appreciate it, I’m certain. I’m glad you mentioned off-handed that you were up to date on your vaccines. I promise, this will make a dent in at least  _ some _ of the worse rumors; it may even get some people to realize that  _ this _ Representative Gloucester is not a corrupt mastermind criminal like his father.”

“That’s the hope,” Lorenz sighed and stepped into the pants. “I’m not exactly the Santa build, though,” he continued, pulling out the loose fabric for emphasis.

“Lie when they ask about your weight,” Claude offered. “You’re good at making things up on the spot.”

“...that isn’t exactly a compliment, even if it is true. Maybe I lost weight so I can eat all the cookies and milk that will be left out for me?”

“Perfect,” Claude said and pulled a fake beard kit out of a plastic bag as Lorenz tightened the accompanying belt on the pants as much as possible. “This one should stick so you won’t have the embarrassment of some kid pulling down your beard and having it snap back in your face. I’m gonna have to glue it to your face, but it’ll come off with warm water and elbow grease. Trust me, okay?”

“The things I do because I love you,” Lorenz muttered as he put on the top over his undershirt.

“No dishes or trash for you for a week,” Claude replied and gave Lorenz a quick kiss before reading the instructions and beginning to apply the beard. “How about I throw in vacuuming the apartment, too?”

“I won’t complain about you helping to maintain our shared space.”

Claude chuckled.

Lorenz held still through it all without wincing once, and was proud-by-proxy based on how pleased Claude looked at his handiwork. “Let me just pin on your wig and then put on your hat and you’ll be convincing enough.”

Lorenz tolerated Claude tugging on and arranging his hair--he did far worse when riled--and then pulled the hat on. Claude whipped fake spectacles out from somewhere and slipped them carefully on Lorenz’s face; to Lorenz’s relief, there were no lenses, so there wouldn’t be any strain on his eyes. 

“There! Perfect.”

“Of course,” Lorenz responded. “How can I be anything other than perfect?”

Claude snorted and offered his hand. Lorenz took it and stood, tightening the belt again to keep the pants from dropping. 

“Turn around and take a look,” Claude said and Lorenz did so--and was impressed in spite of himself. 

“You’re good at this,” Lorenz said, running his hand along a beard that didn’t budge even when he tugged hard on it. 

“The theater kids were the most open-minded at my school, so I joined the theatre club to find  _ some _ kind of belonging. I learned to do make up there.”

“Claude,” Lorenz said and gently cupped Claude’s face. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to ruin your hard work.”

“You can kiss me later at the adults-only afterparty,” Claude said with a wry smile and wink. “I know where all the mistletoe is placed. C’mon, time for your debut as Santa.”

“This is  _ ridiculous _ ,” Lorenz muttered one last time before allowing Claude to guide him out into the banquet hall, where Santa’s throne/chair was set up in one corner. There were squeals of delight from the various assembled children, and Lorenz’s posture straightened and his smile grew more genuine.

“You  _ like _ kids?” Claude whispered, incredulous. “I probably should have asked that earlier…”

“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” Lorenz replied equally softly. “I used to beg my parents to buy me dolls that I could take care of, but I always ended up with action figures or sessions to ‘pray the gay away’ when I made do with caring for the action figures.”

“Clearly those sessions worked,” Claude drawled and parted ways when they reached Santa’s corner. Claude took up a place at the velvet rope barrier that kept people from swarming while Lorenz gave a beatific wave to the assembled crowd before taking a seat. Lorenz was expecting it to be painfully uncomfortable, but someone had sufficiently padded the seat that it was...actually tolerable.

Claude looked over his shoulder and Lorenz gave him a covert thumbs-up. He was as ready as he would ever be. 

Claude turned back to the line that had  _ already _ formed and smiled brightly at the boy and his mother. It hurt to see evidence of invasive and intense medical treatments and the hospital band still around his thin wrist, and Lorenz swallowed the simmering indignation at the injustice of such young people being forced to endure such hardship. He gave the boy his best smile and helped him onto his knee, supporting his lower back and giving him his (Lorenz’s) other arm to hold onto for extra balance.

“What’s your name?” Lorenz asked, deepening his voice as much as he could and trying to suffuse it with warmth.

“Why are you so skinny?” the kid asked, as Lorenz had anticipated.

“Well, I need to have room for all the cookies and milk, don’t I?” Lorenz replied. “I have a lot of houses to visit, after all!”

It was a good enough explanation for the boy, who told him his name--Eric--and then rattled off a list of what he wanted for Christmas. It made Lorenz’s heart hurt that, after listing what was  _ expected _ of a boy his age, his eyes darted over to his mother, then he leaned in and whispered in Lorenz’s ear: “What I really want is for mommy to smile again. Can you do that?”

“I’ll do my best,” Lorenz replied solemnly. 

“Good,” Eric said, and Lorenz helped him down from his lap, giving his mother, who quickly gathered him in her arms, as encouraging a smile as he could manage. 

_ Oh, it’s going to be a  _ long _ day, _ Lorenz thought, strapping steel to his spine as he helped the next child--a girl, onto his knee. 

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Linda. You have pretty eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are they purple?”

Lorenz’s brain scrambled for a minute before he lied, “It’s because of all the magic at the North Pole!”

Linda’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Oh, yes,” Lorenz lied. “I used to have brown eyes just like you but spending all the time with the elves and the magic needed to make all the presents and get them to all the children around the world turned them purple instead.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Linda said. “Can I visit the North Pole?”

“You’ll have to ask your parents,” Lorenz said. “What would you like for Christmas?”

After Linda had rattled off her wishes and Lorenz handed her off, a more reluctant child approached him, so Lorenz nudged the boy into looking at him, and he promptly blurted out, “I’m Jewish.”

“That’s okay,” Lorenz replied. “I’m Santa Claus for  _ everyone _ , not just Christian kids. Do you, ah, know the Dreidel song?”

Lorenz  _ didn’t _ know all of it--he had a few Jewish friends, but being at a Catholic private school K-12 had cut down on his exposure until college--but he figured that what little he knew would count, and it was worth the smile on the boy’s--Joshua--face. The boy also told him what he would like to receive during Hannukkah,  _ just in case _ , before he was released back to his parents, who both looked  _ exceedingly _ grateful. 

The next girl almost climbed into his lap, and Lorenz shifted her to his knee, and she immediately asked, “Can I have a pony?”

_ Fuck _ .

“Ah, because it gets so cold on the sleigh, I can’t bring any animals with me,” Lorenz said. “You wouldn’t want your pony to get cold, would you?”

“No!” she said, seeming upset at the very prospect. 

“But, maybe you can talk to your parents?” Lorenz offered. “Having a pony is a big responsibility, you know, but you look like you could handle it.”

Her dismay vanished and she gave him a gap-toothed smile. The rest of her requests were more reasonable, although Lorenz was careful to not commit to any. He didn’t want to put any pressure on parents who were likely already dealing with a lot, given that their children were either sick or recently recovered.

The next boy to approach him looked  _ exceedingly _ suspicious as Lorenz lifted him onto his knee. 

“You don’t look like the other Santa I saw.”

_ Shit. Shit, uh. _

“That was one of my helpers!” Lorenz said. “You see, I can’t be everywhere and listen to all the wishes of the children of the world, so I have plenty of helpers.”

That was enough to soothe the lingering doubt, and after introducing himself as Mark, he launched into a rather detailed list of what he wanted and the  _ reasoning _ behind his choices. 

Most of his encounters with the children were unremarkable, although he did have to stop a few times for a drink of water. It was  _ exhausting _ , having to be upbeat, but the love in Claude’s eyes each time he looked over made it at least  _ tolerable _ . It also...being looked at with awe and delight was so  _ different _ from his usual lived experience that it soothed a part of Lorenz’s soul that he hadn’t known had been hurting.

One girl, just as it looked like she was getting ready to leave, asked: “Can I see your sleigh?”

_ Damnit. Uh. Stop asking questions I don’t know the answer to! _

“I don’t want to tire out the reindeer,” Lorenz said. “So, they have a special spot at the airport where they can rest while I’m out visiting children.”

“What should I leave out for them? They don’t eat cookies, too, right?”

“They’d much rather prefer apples,” Lorenz said, a wistful memory of his own childhood horse floating through him. “So make sure you leave out an apple as red as Rudolph’s nose for him!”

“Got it!”

Claude shot him a wink and thumbs-up before letting in the next kid. 

The hardest question he ran up against, though, was one girl who leaned in, looked at him very earnestly, and asked, “Can you bring grandma back?”

Lorenz lightly pat her head and said, “There’s limits to what Santa can do. But, know that your grandma is looking down on you and your family from heaven and loves you very much. She also lives here, in your heart.” Lorenz gently tapped over her chest. 

Her hands covered where Lorenz had touched, and she nodded sadly. “Okay.”

“Your friends and family are also here, and want to help you. Might I see your beautiful smile?”

She gave him a valiant attempt at a smile, and Lorenz returned it with what he hoped was a reassuring one. She whispered a few requests that no person could ever provide, then jumped down and hugged her mother tightly before vanishing into the crowd.

_ Okay, pull yourself together. You still have  _ hours _ ahead of you. _

Gradually, the line dwindled to only the occasional child, then to none as the event wound down. Once they ‘closed’ the Santa corner, Claude sauntered over from his post and rested his hand on Lorenz’s shoulder. “You did really well.”

“I’m  _ tired _ ,” Lorenz said, and wished he could run his fingers through his hair. “And hungry.”

“I’ll take you out for dinner, okay? We’ll skip the afterparty. No one who I actually like showed up to help anway,” Claude said. “But before that…” He looked around at the emptying hall, then perched himself in Lorenz’s lap. “I have a couple things  _ I’d _ like to ask for Christmas from my Santa.”

“ _ Claude _ .”

Claude leaned in and whispered in Lorenz’s ear, “For Christmas, I’d like to have my love to myself for the  _ entire _ day. We can watch cheesy Hallmark movies and make out in front of the fireplace; and then watch the porn version of those movies and make love under the light of the Christmas tree lights. I have some  _ special _ gifts for him that I’m dying to try out on him and have him try out on me. I want to make Christmas dinner for him wearing nothing but an apron and have him take me in the kitchen--although preferably not when I’m wielding a knife.”

Lorenz couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him, but pointedly moved Claude when he began to put pressure on just the right places. 

“We can make dessert together and lick the batter off each other’s bodies. I want to kiss him under the mistletoe until I’m drunk on him,” Claude continued. “Think you can arrange that, Santa?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lorenz murmured in response, sure that his face was the same shade as his outfit. 

“I look forward to it, then,” Claude responded and pressed a quick kiss to Lorenz’s cheek before standing and offering Lorenz his hand. “Time to get that bead off you and you out of those clothes.”

Lorenz’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, which Claude met with an innocent grin.

“Not here,” Lorenz admonished as he took Claude’s hand and stood, trailing behind him as they went to the room where they had left Lorenz’s belongings. Claude promptly blocked the door with a spare chair in the room, then caught Lorenz in a kiss. 

“Your face feels weird with a beard,” Claude almost  _ giggled _ when the kiss broke. “Sit down and I’ll get warm water to get the glue off.”

Claude moved the chair and left the room, and Lorenz took the opportunity to change out of the costume and back into his normal clothes. His undershirt was drenched from how  _ hot _ the outfit had been, but it wasn’t like there was a shower he could use or a spare shirt…

Claude looked  _ distinctly _ disappointed when he returned with a container of lightly steaming water and a washcloth, both likely borrowed from the kitchen. “Damnit.”

“You were not going to fuck me while I was wearing a Santa costume.”

“Oh, no, I fully intended to be the reindeer,” Claude said with a wink. “Or perhaps a disobedient elf who is behind on their quota.”

“...we can pick up cheap costumes elsewhere and do that roleplay  _ at home _ .”

Claude snickered and began to carefully remove the beard. “You were brilliant, you know.”

“Of course,” Lorenz replied. “I  _ am _ Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.”

Claude snorted and said, “And everything you do is brilliant, huh?”

“It’s certainly a cut above the rest.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever grow a beard.”

“I won’t,” Lorenz said. “I’ve never been able to. It always looked...stringy and gross whenever I tried.”

“So, where do you want to go for dinner?”

“Hm, what’s around here…?”

They idly debated the merits of the nearby restaurants until settling on a diner; Lorenz was craving waffles. 

“Breakfast for dinner is a perfectly viable choice,” Lorenz huffed when Claude chuckled.

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” he replied as he took off the final part of beard. “There.”

“Thank you,” Lorenz said and dried his face off with the towel Claude offered him. When Claude took the towel away, however, he leaned in for a long, languid, lingering kiss that left Lorenz feeling warm. 

“Were you serious about your Christmas wishes?” Lorenz asked as they both bundled up, Lorenz stopping midway through putting his own coat on to button Claude’s and tuck his scarf in appropriately so the man--who was used to warmer temperatures--wouldn’t be exposed to the cold. 

“Oh, absolutely. Licking brownie batter off your nipples sounds  _ delightful _ .”

“ _ Claude _ ,” Lorenz groaned. “You’re the  _ worst _ .”

“No, I’m the best,” Claude said and embraced Lorenz from behind before slowly buttoning his (Lorenz’s) coat as he pressed light kisses to Lorenz’s neck until the collar of the coat closed in and got in the way.

“You are not allowed to play footsie with me in the restaurant,” Lorenz said, his face once again bright red as he put on his gloves. 

“Spoil-sport,” Claude chided and pouted, although his eyes were laughing. 

“We can do plenty of things at home, but our positions and relationship already puts us both under scrutiny, and I’d really rather avoid the tabloids. I’m in them enough as it is.”

“I did see some people take photographs,” Claude said.

“Hopefully it will be  _ good _ optics and not make its rounds on the darker corners of the internet as proof of the cannibalistic pedophile ring run by the deep state,” Lorenz sighed. 

“People are weird,” Claude sighed.

“You’re telling me,” Lorenz agreed. “There’s also the chance of running into protestors, counter-protestors, constituents--”

“I get it, I know. I’ve dated you long enough and been active enough in politics to know the hazards of eating out,” Claude cut in. “Maybe the Ghosts of Christmas will look kindly on us and let us have a quiet dinner?”

“I suppose it never hurts to hope.”

Dinner did, thankfully, pass without incident, although Claude teased Lorenz for ordering waffles with ice cream in spite of the freezing temperatures. 

On the way home, walking hand-in-hand, it started to snow.

“Well, look at that,” Claude said. “I know it won’t stick, but it’s certainly pretty.”

“Is this your first snow?” Lorenz asked, pulling Claude close. 

“And if it is?”

“Then I’m glad I can share it with you.”

Claude’s smile was soft, and he tugged him out of the general flow of traffic and under the overhang of a closed business. He rested his forearms on Lorenz’s shoulders and said, “Could you kiss me? Standing in the snow? It’ll be something out of a stupid holiday movie. Consider it an early present.”

“It won’t be long,” Lorenz said, but stepped in, his hands going to Claude’s hips, and he pressed his lips to Claude’s in a gentle, chaste kiss. 

It still felt like the white twinkle lights shone a little brighter, and the snow that lightly fell from the heavens swirled around their feet, insulating them against the outside world. The holiday music that was pumped out of the nearby department store came in swells and lulls as people entered and exited the store, mingling with the infectious laughter of the season. The scent of firewood from some house lucky enough to have a wood-burning fireplace and sweets from a nearby bakery lingered in the air. The cold was ignorable with Claude in his arms, his body a miniature heater. 

The kiss broke, but they lingered deep in each other’s personal space, breathing in time.

“I love you, Lorenz,” Claude whispered, his voice low and warm. 

“I love you, too, Claude,” Lorenz responded and pressed one more short kiss to Claude’s lips. “But I’m interested in obtaining those costumes before the stores close...you have me more than intrigued with the possibilities.”

Claude laughed brightly and backed away enough to thread his arm through Lorenz’s. “Let’s not delay, then. So, naughty elf?”

“I don’t think they have those costumes in male sizes…” Lorenz murmured as they began to walk again.

“Oh, you want a  _ naughty _ elf,” Claude said, a grin spreading across his face. “My, Lorenz, I’ve learned something new about you.”

Lorenz blushed bright red and quieted Claude’s laughter with a quick kiss. 

“If I’m getting a  _ naughty elf, _ we have to buy you a  _ sexy Santa _ ,” Claude said when Lorenz backed away. 

“...I suppose that’s only fair,” Lorenz grumbled, his face still burning.

Claude chuckled and leaned into Lorenz’s body, interlacing their fingers. “Thank you again, for today. It meant a lot to many different people.”

“You could talk a boulder into moving when you get an idea in your head,” Lorenz drawled. “And it...it was nothing. It was nice to see so many people  _ smiling _ at me when I usually only get glares.”

Claude squeezed Lorenz’s fingers. “You’ll make a great dad one day.”

“You really think so?” Lorenz murmured, wistfulness lacing his voice.

“After how well you thought on your feet and how good you were with the kids? Absolutely.”

That made Lorenz feel warmer than anything else, and he pressed a quick kiss to Claude’s head. “Thank  _ you _ .”

“You’re welcome,” Claude chuckled. “There, I think that’s a promising store. Let’s see if they have what we need.”

Lorenz allowed himself to be dragged along by his lover, disappearing into the chosen store in search of things that would make  _ their _ Christmas decidedly merry.


End file.
